


Ever the Fool

by idgiebay



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-06
Updated: 2008-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idgiebay/pseuds/idgiebay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Yeah, I'm awful, I get it.” Phoenix waved his hand. “I was just messing around. As if you could do any better, anyway,” he added, raising his glass to his lips before he remembered it was empty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ever the Fool

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crimsonobsession](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonobsession/gifts).



> Written for the prompt 'dancing'.

“What on Earth are you doing?”  
  
Phoenix started and nearly tripped over his shoes, a dribble of wine splashing over the lip of his glass and onto the floor. If he hadn’t been on the balcony, Edgeworth may have said something, and certainly not anything nice. Instead, the other man merely gave the spot a pointed look before his gaze settled on Phoenix once more, brow raised.  
  
At least Phoenix had the decency to look sheepish. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Er, the music. I was, you know...”  
  
“Drunk,” Edgeworth all too happily supplied. “You were, and are, very, very drunk.”  
  
“...Yeah, that. Probably.” Phoenix grinned and shrugged; he simply couldn't be bothered, it seemed, not when the day had turned out so well. He may have lost his case to a guilty verdict, but the truth had been uncovered, and the family of the victim could finally rest a little easier.  
  
He turned away and leaned against the railing, finishing off his wine in one, long gulp as he watched what few stars could be seen in the Los Angeles sky. It was a good night for celebrating--relatively clear and very little wind.  
  
Edgeworth finally moved from the doorway and joined him on the balcony, surveying the skyline with vague interest. His expression was smug. “I have to say,” he began, “I’ve never seen a variation quite like that. Was it the waltz?”  
  
He suspected more than saw the heat rise to Phoenix's face and couldn’t keep a tiny hint of amusement from gracing his features--not that he tried to.  
  
“Yeah, I'm awful, I get it.” Phoenix waved his hand. “I was just messing around. As if you could do any better, anyway,” he added, raising his glass to his lips before he remembered it was empty.  
  
Edgeworth's smirk grew wider. “Well, I do happen to be trained in ballroom dancing, you know.”  
  
He received a raised eyebrow in response. “What, really?”  
  
“You don't believe me?”  
  
A moment of silence passed while Phoenix watched him, digesting the information. Then he set his glass down, pushed himself away from the railing, and gestured toward the middle of the balcony. “Okay. Let’s see it, then.”  
  
Edgeworth glanced at him, cocking an eyebrow as well. “One can hardly dance the waltz on their own, Wright.” A casual sip of wine, and then, “Unless, of course, one is an inebriated idiot.”  
  
Several more seconds went by, and suddenly Phoenix was holding his hand out expectantly. It took Edgeworth a moment to realize the implication and far longer for him to come up with a suitable response than he would ever admit. He turned away, hiding his face in his glass and taking another, more deliberate sip. “Don’t be absurd,” he muttered.  
  
“Oh, so you were lying.”  
  
He turned back only to see challenge dancing in the other man’s eyes.  
  
There was a voice in the back of his mind that informed him that this was utter foolishness, even warned him of its possible detrimental effects, but Edgeworth was never one to back down from a challenge. Especially a challenge issued by one Phoenix Wright.  
  
It was decided.  
  
Carefully setting his glass upon the railing, he faced his companion and (with a beat of hesitation) took the proffered hand. He allowed himself a selfish moment to note its warmth, and then expertly placed his own hand lightly on the other man’s waist. He was briefly troubled by the way Phoenix tensed, and he would have pulled away if not for the barest hint of a smile that peaked at the corners of the other man's lips.  
  
Mercifully, Phoenix seemed to know where to place his other hand, and for a moment, they stood there, motionless, while Edgeworth waited for the proper musical cue and then led them into the waltz.  
  
It wasn’t the most well-executed dance; Phoenix was further gone (or seemed to be) than Edgeworth had initially thought, and if Edgeworth were being honest with himself, he’d have realized that his own sense of timing was a few milliseconds short of perfection. Still, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been; the defense attorney was surprisingly light on his feet for someone who normally seemed so...  bumbling to Edgeworth.  
  
He couldn’t help but smirk. “Not bad, for a man with the grace of an elephant.”  
  
Phoenix only snorted and kept his eyes fixed to their feet, trying to keep from stepping on Edgeworth's, most likely.  
  
As the moments ticked by, the dance became more and more surreal for the prosecutor. He found himself in an almost detached state, as if watching the events unfold in a movie instead of experiencing them for himself. It wasn’t long before he realized they were far too close for the waltz, their movements having gradually slowed to nothing, yet the music still played inside the apartment.  
  
Phoenix had met his gaze at some point, he realized. The defense attorney's blue eyes were lidded with intoxication, but there was a hint of something else Edgeworth couldn’t quite place, something he would later fear his own inebriated mind had created. It was unnerving, even dangerous, yet when he tried to tear his gaze away, he found the only other place he could look was at Phoenix's lips. Brow knitted together, his own eyes heavy, he swallowed.  
  
“Wright...” His voice, vaguely puzzled, was gentler than he could ever remember hearing it. Unfortunately, it was as if the word had tripped a switch inside his companion. Edgeworth's arms were suddenly empty.  
  
“It’s getting late,” he heard Phoenix cough. When he managed to settle his gaze on the other man, he saw him looking at the floor rather intently, his face flushed. “I should go,” he continued, “The, uh, buses, you know...”  
  
Ice gripped Edgeworth's stomach. He slowly nodded. “The buses. Of course.”  
  
Phoenix walked towards the apartment, seemed to hesitate at the sliding glass door, and then looked over his shoulder. Edgeworth held his breath.  
  
“Thanks,” he said. “Some other time?”  
  
Edgeworth stared at him. What did that mean? The question held the weight of unspoken words, at least on his part. The warning voice returned, berating him for his foolishness thus far and cautioning against further displays of idiocy.  
  
But Miles Edgeworth, ever the fool, simply nodded and exhaled. “Some other time.”


End file.
